


Long Talks on the Park Bench Full of Splinters and Dead Fallen Petals

by MountainMew



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MountainMew/pseuds/MountainMew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> every little thing you do makes me wanna do you </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Talks on the Park Bench Full of Splinters and Dead Fallen Petals

**Author's Note:**

> Normally, I have a lot to say in notes, but perhaps since I’ve been so stressed I’ve been nervous about blabbing. So I’ll be brief. I’ve been reading on Gaku translations, and actually grew to like him a lot more. He’s cute. Tsumugi is cute, too. I hope she kisses all the boys!  
> I'm nervous, writing Tsumugi. I'm not used to otoge protags with personality... Hers is good. I hope everyone loves her as dearly as I do. Or maybe I'm way off on my interpretation of her. Who knows.

_He brushes his hand over hers. They're clammy, forced stiff to the point of being rather endearing. They could have been nearing the grave, an old woman and her lover, and he’d still shy away at love’s first kiss. It smells like flowers. Smells like fresh dandelions, dissipating in the wind. Smells like a daisy, he pulls the first petal off._  
  She loves me, he thinks.  
_Tsumugi pushes her hair behind her ear. Remembers fondly of days long past, of being a child who cried when first she kissed a boy, one warm like honey and sap. And now, with her hand cupped against his cheek, she almost laughs at the pure reversal of their roles. When would her sweet knight in shining armor sweep her off her feet, she wonders?_  
_Touches from a woman are cold as ice. How she dances fingertips over his skin is more aptly to be called overwhelming, and oh how distant of a princess she really was. He pulls about another petal, they’re truly stubborn little things, aren’t they?_  
  But does she really, he thinks.  
_She said it once, actually. Quiet, gentle, he heard the ocean breeze before her actual words. And, to be honest, he’s not sure he ever truly listened, and chides himself for it every passing night with his phone burning about his eyesight. For breakfast, for lunch, for dinner, he’s sure to tell her something warm._  
_When he leans his head on her shoulder, which for the height looks absolutely ridiculous, he smells like salt and chlorine. Over the weight of his skull she hears an endless waterfall and heavy winds that break right through the soul. She doesn’t have barriers, says careless things when she’s trying so hard to hold good relations. Maybe, most careless of all, she confessed once to him she longed for more women to speak personally to. Then, backpedaling said,_ ‘You’re good, too.’  
_So he couldn’t be her knight, nor maid of honor, but the first night the two snuck away she wanted to call him a prince. Beautiful, and graceless – one with no poise but a strong determination to escape. Yet, he makes it all too easy, to love him and want to chase him at the same time. She wants to tease him, ask him out to dinner and stand him up at the last second. To run after him and tell him some sappy excuse a man must have given her some time ago._ And maybe... _she thinks, kicking up her legs to cross, maybe she’s the knight for him. Reaching her hand over his, she pulls about the petals for him._  
  Be honest, he thinks.  
  But she says, without a single thought at all, “A bit childish, don’t you think?”  
  _Her smile is undeniably sly like a fox under the moon. Tsumugi is a thief, one of his heart, and God if he doesn’t want it back. He doesn’t. He wants her hand under his, a ring in his other, but he can’t assure that his heart won’t pound itself to death in that situation._  
_So she’s playing hard to get, but when she brushes her hand through his hair, thinks about how a few minutes feel like eternity, she wants to say words left ever unsaid. Wants to take his advice, be honest and say she’s the one who’s nervous about dates and kisses self-initiated. But really, what is infatuation without one or two missteps? Three or four misinterpretations?_  
  “Because as long as you know, and believe in me, then...”  
_She felt sleepy, reading that message. Somehow, it was her biggest fear, to fall asleep on him, or forget to message back when she got too busy. Maybe, she once would have thought a hundred texts a day was clingy, but she never really realized how little she ever really said. How much would always go unsaid, lodged in the throat and clamoring finger tips._  
_Really, how coy she’s been, dancing around honesty like a ballroom dance. For what it’s worth, Gaku’s more reliable than a child and more juvenile than an adult. But one without the other isn’t Gaku, so she prefers to see him blush when she kisses his knuckles than have a man to kiss her first. For every time he’s said she’s cute, she thinks double goes for him. And when he pulls at the petals, she pulls at the stem and says those old, forgotten words from some late night she barely believes happened at all._  
  “I love you,” She says.  
_And he could have just asked, but he wonders if she would have said the word without a small push. It’s late, and everyday it’s been a long day. In the night like this they’d eat snacks with smiles and consider saying things without opening their mouths at all. So every word’s an adult’s little secret, and..._  
  “Well, you’re cuter than a flower.”  
  _So he believes every word. When her lips graze against his, she remembers the taste. Remembers how boys are like honey and tree sap, sickening and sweeter than her blood could handle. But Gaku’s lips feel just right, maybe even too biter._  
  “Honey and milk tea,” She says. “Would you like some, too?”  
_Of course, he wants nothing more than to take her hand and follow along. But there’s a dozen reasons not to, a dozen good reasons that will become their bouquet of roses. Her lips are milk to his honey, and that’s enough for the time being._  
_Someday, they will get old, and he’ll be able to shy away from her grabbing at his hands in public like it never mattered at all. But for his fans and her boys, part-time love is more than he imagined he would have got for all his embarrassing displays of texts and captivation._  
_Regardless, he takes her hand. Kneeling down, with the gentlest caress of his lips he places her hand. She rests her left on her own face, lets loose all the control she held prior and feigns humiliation. He looks up, into her eyes. Takes a deep breath._  
  “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment... No topic, just be kind. As always, thank you for your continue support.


End file.
